Dusting Off the Strings

So the creative process begins. Actually, it won't begin today. Turn the volume up on your computer and you might think that I've been creative, but this just isn't so if we use Perkins' definition of creativity: "A creative result is a result both original and appropriate." If you don't hear anything, you can download the file here.

Why is this work not fit Perkins' definition of a creative product? Since my goal is to display creativity in the form of fiddle tunes, and you're hearing a fiddle tune that I've recorded, I'd say that I have produced something that is appropriate. Note that by appropriate I do not mean that the typical person would enjoy listening to it. If you're anything like my wife, then it probably sounds a bit too 18th century for your tastes. This probably isn't something you're going to hear downtown on Saturday night, but then again, that wouldn't be appropriate for a fiddle tune.

The problem here is that this is not original! This melody is played almost note for note from a transcription I learned back in high school from a Doc Watson recording (fiddle tunes don't have to be played on a fiddle, in case you were wondering). It doesn't matter if you can't tell the difference between my recording and Doc's recording (which you most certainly can, unless you're deaf). Since Doc did it first, Doc's version is creative, and mine is not.

That's OK, however, because today was all about getting back in the swing of playing music and learning how to record multiple tracks with Garage Band. I originally thought I'd just play two tracks: a rhythm track and a lead track, both on guitar. It ended up being so much fun, that I ended up dusting off and tuning up my bass and mandolin for a little more accompaniment.

I'm pretty sure this recording will by far be the best sounding recording I make for this blog, because from now on, I've got to create my own products. From my very limited past experience with trying to write music, I think I've got a better shot at learning Van Halen's Eruption than I do of writing something that is truly creative.

Perkins, D. N. (1988). Creativity and the quest for mechanism. In R. J. Sternberg & E. E. Smith (Eds.), The psychology of human thought (pp. 309-336). New York: Cambridge University Press.

If I Had a Lawn, the Grass Would Be Blue

I grew up in Dahlonega, Georgia, perhaps the prettiest town in the world. It's surrounded by mountains, half-covered in beautiful cow pastures and fragrant chicken houses, and probably has the most gracious and down-to-earth citizens in all of the South. The first 18 years of my life, I was surrounded by the rural Appalachian culture of this town, and although I embraced many of its particularities, I rebelled against two of its most prevelant characteristics: I was a staunch liberal in a town replete with Old South conservatism and I committed the sacrilege of hating the country and bluegrass music that formed the soundtrack of Dahlonega life.

I'm still a liberal to the core, and I don't see that ever changing, but my taste in music has evolved. Music has always been a big part of my life. I fell in love with the Beatles as a kid, rocked out to Nirvana in middle school awkwardness, and thought I had the hippest music collection in my graduating class. Music is always playing around me. It's quite a challenge for me to turn down the music in my classroom low enough so as to not distract my students on test days. Six years ago, my iTunes library had almost every genre represented except country and bluegrass. My elitist musical taste wouldn't allow for it. But finally, that stodginess has been dislodged, and I've been rewarded by being able to enjoy some of the catchiest music known to man. My guess is that if you don't find your self tapping your foot to "Chattahoochee" by Alan Jackson or belting out backup to Garth while "Friends in Low Places" plays, you're either not being honest with yourself or you're not human.

Don't worry, I won't subject you to me singing about my huntin' dog, my old woman, and an empty bottle of Jack. Nobody deserves that. Instead, I'm going to try to write some good-old fashioned bluegrass fiddle tunes. I've played guitar, not very well, off and on since I was 13. I've always wanted to be able to write my own music, but I've never really had the time to try. The structure of a fiddle tune is nice and simple and no singing is necessary, so I figure this is a good place to start as a wanna-be song-writer. We'll see what happens.